“He reconsidered.”
Merryn slumped back against the pillows, shocked and bitterly upset. Quite evidently she had misjudged Tom Bradshaw. She had felt so close to Tom, united in camaraderie, fighting for justice. Or so she had thought. Clearly Tom had been working for something quite different. Treacherous, deceitful Tom …
She remembered Garrick telling her that Tom was corrupt and she felt hopelessly naive. She closed her eyes for a second wondering if all her judgments were so faulty. Today she was no longer sure of anything.
Joanna patted her hand. “I am sorry, Merryn.” She smiled at Tess. “Would you give me some time with Merryn alone, please, Tess? I think there are some matters we need to discuss.”
Tess nodded. She gave Merryn a spontaneous hug, which brought the tears prickling Merryn’s eyelids, and went out, closing the door softly after her. Merryn turned to look at her eldest sister. Joanna looked much the same as ever, stylish to a fault, although there were dark marks beneath her eyes that suggested that she, too, might have had a sleepless night. Merryn felt surprised by her sister’s self-possession. She had expected Joanna to be hysterical, to rail at her for her behavior and for the shame and dishonor that she had brought on the family. Merryn had been accustomed to thinking both her sisters shallow but now, looking at Joanna’s face, pale but perfectly composed, she was obliged to admit she had made a mistake, and about Tess, too.
“How do you feel?” Joanna asked expressionlessly.
“Very odd,” Merryn admitted. She felt sore today, not just from all the cuts and lacerations that her body had sustained in the flood. There were other aches, other soreness that was the result of Garrick’s lovemaking. The changes in her body made it impossible for her to pretend it had never happened. She felt different, aware of her physical self as she had never done before. It was odd and disconcerting and yet at the same time there was a wicked undertow of excitement and possibility about it that only served to confuse her further.
She ached more deeply, too, in her heart and soul, with a rawness that was so profound it made her want to cry. She knew she was still tired and that she was suffering from shock, but then there were other hurts that could not simply be intellectualized or explained away. How could she have done what she did with Garrick Farne? How could it have been so glorious in the moment, how could it have given her such dizzying pleasure, such excitement, such new and stunning awareness, and yet be so painful to recall now? And how could she forget it, as she had sworn she would, when she had thought about nothing else in the long darkness of the night when she had lain awake and remembered the press of Garrick’s body on hers, the sense of him within her, the way that she had felt possessed and completed and utterly claimed as his?
Merryn fidgeted as a wave of heat rolled through her, making her stomach melt with a fiery longing. She had never been troubled by physical desire before she had met Garrick. She had read about lust, studied the differences between Eros, passionate and sensual desire, and Agape, deep, true love, and had thought how interesting it was and how clever language was to be able to separate and define the two. She had looked on it all as an academic exercise and had not felt anything but intellectual curiosity. But now she burned. She burned for Garrick and to learn and explore all those wonderful sensations she had only just discovered. It had been like a door opening into a richly colored fantasy world. She wanted to run through that door and greedily grasp after every new discovery.
She hated herself for it.
A wave of shame and self-reproach tumbled through her, making her feel physically sick.
You lust for the man who killed your brother …
“I am sorry, Joanna,” she said. “I am sorry that I deceived you about working for Tom Bradshaw.”
She saw Joanna frown. “It made me wonder,” Joanna said, “whether I really know you at all.” She fixed Merryn with her big blue eyes. “You have been working for Mr. Bradshaw for several years, so I understand. When I thought you were attending lectures or scientific talks you were undertaking assignments from him.”
“Not always,” Merryn said, feeling defensive. “I have done a great deal of study as well.”
Joanna swept on as though she had not spoken. “I used to imagine you as so unworldly and intellectual. I thought that I had to protect you.” She gave a short laugh. “Do you remember when John Hagan threatened to destroy us all if I did not become his mistress, and I went to Alex for protection? I did that for you as well as for myself, Merryn. I thought I had to care for you! It turns out you were nowhere near as naive and defenseless as I had thought.”
“I think,” Merryn said, with painful honesty, “that I have been extremely naive.”
Joanna’s gaze considered her. “We shall come to that in a moment,” she said pleasantly. “For now, please permit me to get this off my chest.” She drew a deep breath. “When I was abroad and thought you safely staying with friends you were apparently undertaking other assignments for Mr. Bradshaw. Indeed, I am wondering if any of your friends actually exist! Last night, when you did not return home, we sent to a Miss Dormer’s house because you had said you were attending a concert with her. We found that Miss Dormer did not live at the address you gave.” She looked at her sister and Merryn’s heart did a little dive to see the hurt and disappointment in Joanna’s eyes.
“You lied to me, Merryn,” Joanna said precisely. “Frequently. Repeatedly. I find it difficult to forgive.”
“It wasn’t like that,” Merryn started to say. She felt wrenched with distress to see Joanna’s unhappiness. “I thought that if I told you about my work for Tom you would stop me,” she said defensively.
“So you did not trust me,” Joanna said. “I am sorry for that. As the eldest I have always felt a responsibility for both you and Tess but until now I had not realized quite how badly I had failed.” She made a slight dismissive gesture with her hands. “We shall leave that discussion for now. I think there are more urgent issues.”
She got up and walked across to the window. The autumn sun burnished her hair to copper and chestnut and gold.
“Garrick Farne has made you an offer,” she said, over her shoulder. “Alex is speaking to him. He is downstairs. He awaits your answer.”
“No!” Merryn felt quick, suffocating panic. “It is impossible!”
“To marry him?” Joanna half turned toward her. Her expression was blank. “And yet you seem to have found it easy enough to sleep with him.”
“It wasn’t like that!” Merryn said. Her voice broke a little. She felt the tears swell in her eyes. “It is difficult to explain.” Even her vaunted facility with language failed when she tried to explain to Joanna what had happened between herself and Garrick. “I was very scared,” she said hesitatingly, “of the dark and of being trapped and Garrick saved my life, and the beer fumes were very strong—”
“So you were drunk,” Joanna said impassively, after a moment.
“Yes … No!” Merryn said. “I’m not making excuses for myself. I will not. I cannot explain it, Jo. I was terrified and Garrick protected me and I was so grateful and relieved to be alive and he …” Her voice trailed off.
There was a long silence.
“It was a most generous way to show your gratitude,” Joanna said, very understatedly.
Merryn
